Love Is Blindness
by taniaSLC
Summary: Eponine returns to the barricade, having received a letter from Enjolras that changes nearly everything she thought she knew about him, herself, and the nature of hope. An illuminating conversation with Grantaire further solidifies her goal of not letting Enjolras sacrifice himself for his ideals, but how to change his mind? Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_**Love Is Blindness  
**  
a Les Miserables fanfic_

I wondered what they were concerning themselves with, if the defense of their beloved barricades could allow me to slip in and out so effortlessly. No one noticed as I slunk back in, secreted in dark corners, pressed against makeshift walls, slipping through the cracks. If I could do it, their enemies could just as easily arm someone and send them in, to decimate their ranks from the inside out, maybe with a bomb of some sort. Or, just a single thrust of a knife against Enjolras's throat and it would all be over. The boys and girls believed in their cause, but none of them would be able to make this stand were it not for their leader.

Once inside the tavern, I could see him. He seemed too vulnerable- their ideals made flesh, and so exposed. He was flushed with the remnants of their first battle, and I could see his attempts to remain calm. He knew it was the first of many melees, and they should not grow overconfident. That's what he was saying to them.

I kept my hand fisted in my pocket, holding the letter he'd given me. He must have slipped it into my coat when I was here earlier, when Marius was charging me with his errand. I hadn't found the letter until I'd delivered the other to the girl's father. But then I walked through the streets and read his words, feeling them sear into my heart and light up the night, or maybe just igniting my very self.

Love. His words were words of love- simple, yet earnest, and more beautiful than I'd ever dared imagine I could merit. If he hadn't faced certain death, he said his love would have lived forever, quiet within him. But with his end looming near, he wanted to give futile voice to his deepest secret; the secret that was me. That he'd always seen me, that he knew me and my loneliness, the dreariness of my every moment. He wanted to take me away- not to a life of grandeur he could only promise but never fulfill, but to a life of simplicity and happiness. He painted a picture of the life we might be able to share, were the world entirely different, if my love somehow matched his own, if a person's destiny were really their own to decide instead of being directed by God in a pattern none could see.

Truth be told, I'd noticed Enjolras before I'd ever spotted my Msr. Marius. He had a fire in his soul, and it was visible whenever he spoke- and it frightened me. Such fires either burn out quickly or consume those that hold them, and I could see that this one would not be long for this world. He would burn out, trying to help everyone but himself. I knew what the world did to the selfless, and I'd determined to never be one of them. So I kept my eyes roving over the crowds he gathered, I flitted in and out and did my work. And then Monsieur Marius appeared and my heart was easily captured by him.

I knew it was pointless to love Monsieur, and that was why I did it. I could keep flitting, I could come in and out, I could take the surge of heady emotion aroused when he would deign to speak with me, and I could walk away. My wings would not be burned by him, because he was not aflame, he was just a boy. His smile came easily, he walked the walk of a man whose place in the world was not challenged, and he found it simple to saunter in the wake of Enjolras. He was not a dangerous one.

Standing in a dark corner, hidden against a wall, I watched Enjolras and let myself be drawn to his flame. How could someone so noble, so pure, feel love for someone like me- a love that was not borne of pity, but of truth?

Suddenly someone was beside me, someone smelling of brandy and cigars, and something unfamiliar. I turned to see who it was and, of course, it was Grantaire. He, like, Marius, was always somewhere near to Enjolras.

"Ah, I see a little boy has come to our revelry. Have you come to join the fray, little _boy_?"

At the emphasis on this last word, he jerked the hat from my head, letting my hair fall down.

"How did you know it was me?"

"How could I not? I'm sure you're here for your Monsieur, so go find him if you will. He is out at the barricade, keeping watch. But don't bother with any disguise. This is the sort of night that bares a man's soul, and in the bareness, truth is all that there is room for, all we have time for."

"And a woman's soul?"

"Barer still, my lady."

"Do not mock me, Grantaire."

"I do not mock. I salute the one who succeeded where I could not. And now you are here, and do you even know what for? I told you where your lord is, why do you not go to him?"

I looked down, and found myself bringing forth my hand from my pocket, the letter still in my fist. He took the letter and unraveled it enough to see the seal upon it.

"I see. He has told you at last."

"He- Enjolras... he says that..."

"That he loves you. Body and soul, with a love too pure and true for this world, just as he loves all things and people. But for you, it is a different sort of love. He would hold you to him, he would cleave to you, and be with you always."

"Yes, that is what he says..."

"Do you doubt, ma petite? Do you doubt the honor of the man you see over there?"

"No. I do not doubt. I only can't believe it. But you seem to know about it."

"Oh, I know what they all think of me. Grantaire the Sot, only aware of when his cup runs empty. But I see it all. And, I said, this is the night to lay all of it open, to expose the souls and secrets of us all. The things I could tell you, ma fille..."

"So, tell me, Grantaire."

"Marius is consumed with this passion for Cosette. Coup de foudre. The lightning that comes and seals a pact between two people and lasts beyond this world and the next. You mourn this, for you think you care for the young man. This blinds you to the love with Enjolras has for you, a love that he holds in his heart like a sacred secret, one he could only tell you about in the hour of his own death. And he is holding himself for you, though he doesn't think anything shall ever come of it. And Grantaire, he holds a similar love in his heart. A love that will never be given voice, for it can only be met with contempt- or pity, even worse. But this love he holds like a flame, that is what draws the poor wretch to this awful place, to this terrible moment. We are all here for love, and we all know that it will be the end of us.

"And there it is. Grantaire adores Enjolras and follows him to death. A death decreed by Enjolras's love of ideals, which outweigh his hopeless love for Eponine. Eponine's doomed affection for Marius, who is also going to die, despite a love for Cosette which could give him cause to live and fight on even beyond death."

I gave him a good long look, then, but as I had chosen the darkest corner of the tavern, that availed me little. I pushed and pulled him until we were moved and standing beneath a lamp, so I could look into his eyes and read therein whether he spoke truth or nonsense.

I had never been so close to Grantaire, and had never before taken note of exactly how bright and green his eyes were. I would have thought them surprisingly lovely if they had not been so heavily sad, showing a depth of feeling I would never had suspected could have lain within him.

"Say again, tell me again what you just said, now that I can see your eyes and read your face for lies."

"I love Enjolras. I am following him to this foolish death because I would follow him anywhere; to be in his company is all that I can hope. And he loves you so much that he overcame his natural humility and need to allay his own desires that he wrote you a letter tonight, telling you as much. And you- you think you love Marius, and you pretend that you do. But I'd wager, looking into your eyes, mademoiselle, that you begin to realize, on this night of peril and ultimate choices, that your infatuation with him is nothing when weighed against all of the the true and deep loves that will all come to ruins this night. What say you?"

I met his probing gaze, as he had met mine. As he had put the unspeakable into words, I felt I owed him something like as much honesty, and I hoped that he'd see it all when I let myself flood into my eyes.

"And now, I wonder- did you come back to this awful place, Eponine, because you would not be parted from your Marius, or because the strength of Enjolras's love pulled you here?"

"I came because I... the letter..." I have never been a falterer. Or, rather, not for a long time. In my family, if you hesitated you were met with a brisk slap and and order to stop being useless. As a child, I'd been quieter, and I had a habit of murmuring as I thought; my parents had carefully slapped that tendency from me. But now it came back- as if the years of being so tough and so calculating had melted a bit. My defenses had brought me nothing worthwhile, but they had helped keep me alive. In that moment, I surrendered them, as Grantaire had put his own aside.

"I never thought anyone could feel for me what he said he feels. I had to come and see if he spoke truth, because if it was true... I cannot let him die. If someone does care for me so much, I must fight for them."

"What will you do when you find that he will not fight for himself? Believe me, I've tried and tried to protect him from himself, from the inevitable doom. I care not so much for myself, truly- I'm a measly third son and will be mourned by none when I leave this world- but I cannot bear the thought of him not being alive, of his light being snuffed out before he would fulfill his purpose in this world. But he feels so strongly that this is his destiny, there is no dissuading him."

I sighed, knowing Grantaire was right enough. "But I must try. And, in the end, if I cannot make him leave and live on, I can at least leave this world by his side."

"So, you and I are in a similar boat, 'Ponine. The difference being that he loves you in a way that he will never love me. So, you must go to him..."

In that moment, I saw how united we were, Grantaire and I, and for all that the unjustness of it was like an ache. He was not exactly noble and pure, not like a knight from a tale of gallantry, but he was a man who loved one and hurt none. His payment for his kind of honor was to quietly suffer, but he accepted this so readily, expecting nothing else from life. I reached out and gently touched his face before kissing him, tenderly, on each cheek.

"Do not worry about Grantaire, mademoiselle. He will sit here and drink, as he does, and he will sing bawdy songs and lighten the hearts of those nearby. He will put on his motley and be the fool that the poor boys and girls need. We'll all be dead by morning, but some of us might be able to laugh between now and when we cross the door. You- you go to him. If he'll let you, then you will love him for the both us, won't you?"

He kissed me on my cheek, and it was like a benediction. I felt like he was strengthening me, and I knew what I had to do. We smiled at each other, and I turned away.


	2. Chapter 2

To my right, across the room, Enjolras stood. He seemed to be assigning orders to those around him, those who were also flushed with their first victory. The mood was optimistic and almost joyful, but still there was no arguing that everyone here still knew that they might die. For how many of them was this a lark? How many truly understood so well as Grantaire or Enjolras that none would leave here alive?

As if he felt my gaze upon him, Enjolras looked up, and his face went white at the sight of me. The intensity of his scrutiny made me want to hide, but there was no hiding anymore. With death so near, how could any of use hold on to pretense and imagine any part of our souls would not be open, raw, exposed to the world? Why bother with charades and falsities when there was so little time?

Even for me, there was no hiding. I was used to being a little mouse, to being slippery and elusive, to making my way through every place and time. But I'd read the letter and I knew now that he was right- he'd always seen me, even when I hadn't noticed. He'd been watching the whole time, so what could I do but let myself be caught?

He crossed the room in two strides and was on me quicker than I'd been able to track. He grabbed me by the arms, and I thought he meant to embrace me. Instead, he shook me.

"What are you doing here? Don't you realize that everyone here is going to die? Why have you put yourself in harm's way? I saw you, you left- you were safely away. You are not meant to die with us this night, Eponine!"

I shook him off, defiance rising within me.

"And what of you, my lord? Did you not think that your words would call me back? That I could hear the call of your love and not respond? If you thought I'd stay away when I could be here, you have truly seen nothing of me. You do not know me as well as you profess if you thought I would be from your side."

"Foolish girl. You think we tilt at windmills that won't fight back? Those are real soldiers beyond our barricades, and we've already had two deaths, many more injured, despite successfully repelling their advance. What place have you here? Do you think to go to Marius and beg him to leave?"

"I've no thought of him, you are all." I held up the hand that still grasped his letter. "If you meant these words, then you know why I am here."

He looked at the letter and groaned. "Folly. The folly of a man who had one last gasp, one last regret as he faced his own death. It has passed."

"You would disown your words? Your own heart? Because you can disclaim them all that you want, but I know the truth when I see it, and I see it in your face even now. I see as clearly as you do, monsieur, and I know that your are correct: all here will die. Your words cast the scales from my eyes, and I see all. Would you send from your side one who loves you? Marius is still here, and Grantaire; all these people are here because they love you, because they would be lead by none other. I am now one of them. Will you force us all to leave?"

"No. The ones you name are here by choice, because they believe in the cause for which we all fight. They have chosen, knowing what the outcome will be."

"Truly? How many do you believe truly understand? These are children, playing at soldiers, not fighters who know they may die. I know what will happen. I know for all of us. And still I came, because this is where you are. Why scorn me?"

"You are not meant to die this night! Myself, I care nothing for my own life. But yours is too great a sacrifice and I will not make it."

"And perchance I will not sacrifice yours, Enjolras. If you have the right to decide if I stay or go, why do I not have the same? You love me, you say; will you not grant me the right to decide for myself?"

There was a pause then, as we stood facing each other, each defiant and refusing to give quarter. A burst of laughter erupted from a nearby table, the loudest contributor being Grantaire. Enjolras turned his head toward the sound, and when he turned back to me, it was as if something was gone. Somehow, in that moment, it was like he let go of the last bit of his strength, of his fight. The face he turned to me was resigned, exhausted, and deflated. He lowered his head and exhaled, running a hand through his hair. When he raised his head, I saw the grief written across his face. I spied the tears in his eyes, and heard the catch in his breath. Knowing that his men should not see their leader in a moment of weakness, I took his hand and pulled him into the darkest corner.

"Breathe, Enjolras. And keep breathing."

"Do you think I am blind to what these people are giving up? To the fact that half of them have no idea what they're doing? Look at them, children, as you say. Do children understand that they may die? For them, it is an abstract notion, death. Do you think I don't bear the weight of this responsibility, of having their lives in my hands; these hands, which are already blooded this night?

"But our cause is just, and our fight is necessary. We cannot win, true enough. But we will awaken the people to the need for change. The commoners will see our sacrifice and it will awaken their voices, their outrage. They will fight for themselves in light of the example we set here. If there were any other way, don't you think I'd choose that? But there is none. It takes blood for people to see truth.

"I have always known that I would not live out a long life. I have always known that the burden of leadership has been mine and that it would strike me young. But you... Eponine... I need for you to live. If you care for me, if you respect me, then walk away from this all. Then, at least, the part of you that remembers me will hold me, and part of me will live. If you live, and live well; if you are happy, that is all I could wish in this world."

"Don't you see? If you see me so clearly, how can you not also see what my life is? Drudgery. Despair. Acceptance of the unacceptable. I scrounge, I slink, I fight, I earn money by lying on my back as my father promises each man anew that this is the first for me, so he can charge them more before they discover the truth. And do you think he's still around when that knowledge comes to them? He is long gone with their coins, and I am the one who remains, close enough to beat and make bleed. So it goes.

"I do not tell you because I want your pity; I've no use for it. The life I lead would have broken anyone less strong than I am. So it has been, so it will continue to be- for what is going to change for me? What hope is there that I can escape from my father and find a different way to live, to earn money?

"If I die here tonight, by your side, will there be a loss? No. You are the only one who would mourn my death because you think my life may be worthwhile. You alone. But you will not be there to mourn for me, because you will be dead as well. Now, you, sir- there will be mourning for you. But me... there is nothing. There will be nothing."

He looked horrified by what I said, and made a move to comfort me, but I pushed him away, giving over to anger. It was so much easier and less dangerous than letting myself actually be comforted.

"You, though, sir. You! Were you to live, what could you not accomplish? What dream would you not see achieved? The world for you is this open space, this realm where you can take hold of anything and make it your own. But you would surrender all of it, give it all up so you can die here for your ideals. Because you think it will somehow help more than you could help if you were to live and continue the fight.

"Which of us is wrong, sir? Which of us goes to death with no reason? Which of us is going to die and leave a hole in the world, leave emptiness where there should be a light, fighting to make itself brighter and to share the light with others? Which of us, sir?!"

I shoved him against the nearby wall, defiant and incensed. But his look said so much. There was a helplessness behind his eyes, a glow extinguishing.

"What other road is there, Eponine? This was the only one left, and this is the only end to that road. No other choices, no other possibilities. This was always how this was going to end. Do you not think I tried to see a way around, to another bend, a way to take us all somewhere, to any other outcome? They all trust me, they follow me- dammit, they love me and what else can I do? Do I send them all away, and have this cause laughed out of existence? We do not fight for ourselves, we fight for the people.

"If you have no choices (and I do not say you are right in that assessment), think of the thousands of other girls in Paris right now who are in similar positions. Why do none of you have choices, no way to better your lot in life? Because the people who are in a position of power make it so that you are poor and have no hand to pull you up to a different place. But that doesn't have to be the truth of the matter. In a republic, everyone should help everyone else alongside themselves. Government should be for the people, not an instrument used against them! We do what we do to remind the people that they have the power, they have the choice to demand that their rights and futures be considered by those who control them. Is that not a worthy cause? People have died for far less in this world. A cause... it's something, is it not?"

"Aye, sir. It is something."

I leaned toward him, resting my forehead against his chin. He lowered his face until his forehead rested upon my shoulder, and I clung to him, my arms holding onto him, wrapped around him, as if trying to imbue him with any strength I might have. Surely I did not need it so much as he did. He wrapped his arms around my waist and clung to me, pressing me so tightly to him that it nearly hurt. The embrace seemed interminable, but I was certainly not going to break it.

"If we were not here, now; if no one was here. If the barricade didn't need to exist... just imagine for a moment. If none of this happened like this, in some different world. If you didn't need to help people and save them... and we somehow met... would you still love me? Or am I just another cause you know is doomed but can't help yourself from trying to help?"

"What? Why do you say that?"

He drew back and I missed the pressure, the warmth, of our closeness. I wanted him back, pressed to me, arms flung helplessly about me; but I had to ask the question. God only knows why- because part of me never believed in things being given for free without some sort of pity behind them. Or, if not pity, some sort of angle, some in, some trap that made everything worse than if help were never offered.

"Eponine, I swear to you. For what it's worth, I believe I would love you no matter what. I believe that I love you, yourself- I don't look at you and see some pitiable wretch, it is not sympathy, it's love. I see a woman who is stronger than those around her. A woman with such determination and intelligence, with a fighting spirit that won't brook refusal or suffer fools. A woman who has carved a place in this world, defiant to all who would do her harm, or would pity her, or would expect her to be a bowed, broken thing.

"Were everything different, I would still see that. The perfection you own with or without any extenuating circumstances would still be yours. It is your soul, it is your fire, and I don't think that would ever change, and so my love would not."

"Oh, sir..." Before I could pause, part of me decided what to do next. It was like part of me watched what happened while part of me drew back and was agog that such a thing had transpired. Which was this: I pressed him against the wall, I pushed until he could go nowhere else, and then I kissed him.

_Author's Note: Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to thank everyone who is reading this story and enjoying it enough to follow and/or review. I sincerely hope that I don't let anyone down with the continuing adventures of our star-crossed lovers. As for the fact that I rated this story M for later chapters, I'm not entirely certain that that will still happen. It might, but it's not moving to what I'd once thought was its inevitable conclusion. I'm figuring it out as I write it, and I just wanted to warn anyone who's in this for the dirty bits that they might not turn up. I'm keeping the rating as it is, just in case, but I thought I should be as honest as possible. _


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